Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“Clear your name? With all of the shit you’ve put everyone through, Jack, how could you possibly clear your name?”
“The FBI getting involved wasn’t even my idea, Sweeney. I’m telling you the truth.”
Sweeney shook his head, clearly not believing him.
“It’s a long story, but I figured they’d be just as inept as y’all. Sorry.” He chuckled; certain he looked a bit shamefaced as the words left his mouth. “But I am just being honest. I have nothing to do with anything they’re doing and have asked them to just leave me alone. I feel like they’re being exploitative. They’re pulling at straws. They keep me informed of tips and updates, and it sounds like a bunch of horseshit—these crazy leads and theories of theirs make no sense. At least, you were honest with me that you hadn’t heard anything new. I prefer the truth over a bunch of lies any day of the week.”
Sweeney didn’t look convinced. “They’re telling you things about their internal investigation? That’s highly unorthodox,” he said with a grimace.
“I suppose it is, but as you noticed, I’ve not been at the precinct in a while, either, and that’s because they told me to stop bothering y’all. They said they have a few suspects. They’re full of shit, I know it, but I stopped coming to the precinct anyway. It wasn’t doing any good. I even told them I don’t blame you after they stated y’all weren’t cooperating. I let them know that if anything, I should stop by and talk to you, apologize and let bygones be bygones. They told me not to do it, but you see I’m here anyway. If I listened to them, I’d be a fool. Now here I am, and I need help, and I’m in a jam because of the bridges I’ve burned. I just hope it’s not too late for you to accept my apology, Sweeney. I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong.”
He didn’t miss the flash in the man’s eyes, the way they sparkled like a freshly hatched egg out of an evil dragon’s ass.
“Okay, Jack. Come on in.”
Jackson entered and followed the sheriff to his kitchen. Everything was shiny and new, like something out of a home décor magazine.
“Go on, have a seat, Jack. I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.”
“Thank you.”
Jack pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down.
“You enjoying this weather?” Sweeney asked as he grabbed a blue cup from the cabinet and started the coffee maker.
“Yeah, pretty warm. Oddly so. Usually, we’d still have snow around this time of year.”
“Yeah… definitely odd, but enjoyable all the same.”
Sweeney poured the brew and set the cup down before him, then leaned against the counter, sipping from his mug.
“Jack, I first want to thank you for coming by and apologizing. I want to clear the air, too.”
“You do?” Jack tasted the coffee. Pretty good.
“Yes, I do. So, uh, just so you know, we tried to work with the FBI when they first approached us. I told you I wanted Chad’s murder solved just as much as you, but then they started being really aggressive, and making untrue accusations against us. Nothing they said was true, and it became clear to us they had some sort of hidden agenda.”
“See? That’s what I figured out, too. It’s like they want to make my son some sort of poster child or an example, or something.”
“Exactly.” Sweeney smiled big and wide.
“So, you said they’re keeping you in the loop?”
“Mmm hmm.” Jack took another sip of the coffee.
“Who are the suspects for Chad’s murder, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“No, not at all. They had a few, actually, but they believe there’s only one gunman in the group. They think it was like three or four guys, and things got out of hand.”
“Out of hand? Like a fight?”
“Something like that. See, they said they spoke to some witnesses, too, who saw this group of guys all together that same night, going towards the cabin. Something about some Indian girl being with them, too. I don’t know…” Jack shrugged. “I think they’re full of shit, like I said.” He took another sip of his coffee, not missing how Sweeney’s smug smile faded ever so slightly, and the twitch he quickly masked.
“Indian? They think an Indian woman shot Chad?”
Jackson shook his head.
“No, see, they think this was all over the girl. They interviewed a lady who said a bunch of drunk White guys tried to rape her, and Chad was there with them. Apparently, she claimed he was the only one upset about it and tried to stop ’em … and ended up shot. Funny though, in the toxicology report, Chad didn’t have a drop of alcohol in his system that night. Now I know my boy liked to party, Sweeney, and it was New Year’s Eve after all, but that right there shows she was full of it, or the FBI is grasping at straws. See how it doesn’t make sense?”